


CPS, Christmas, Fake Marriage? Hell Yeah!

by dragonpyre



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 01:11:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19285021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonpyre/pseuds/dragonpyre
Summary: Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak had dated in college. It had been great, but it had ended when Dean moved back to Lawrence at the end of sophomore year to make some money to keep his brother in college. That was eight years ago. Now Castiel is at his wits end trying to deal with his delinquent niece after her parents died, leaving him her legal guardian. Also, Dean is in town visiting his brother who’s planning on coming up for the winter holidays. After a run in with Dean and swapping stories of financial and emotional difficulties, the two decide to fake a marriage so CPS wont take Claire away from Cas, and so that Dean wont be drowning in dept till kingdom come. Of course, now all they have to do is convince their families that it’s completely real. That wouldn’t have been a problem, if it hadn’t also been the start of the Christmas holidays. How the hell were they supposed to make this work?





	CPS, Christmas, Fake Marriage? Hell Yeah!

Not everyone’s story is a romance story. Not everyone gets to burst through the church doors of their lovers wedding right before they make their vows and confess their love. Not everyone gets to ride a noble steed to rescue the fair maiden. And not everyone gets their happily ever after. Or at least, that’s what Dean Winchester had been telling himself for years.

He had accepted that that was never going to be how his story turned out. If anything, he was probably that one background character that offers some help to some other person’s story without knowing it. Or he was that one guy that has a cheesy one liner and a few seconds of recognition before moving on with the story. He was a nobody, and he always would be. And by now, he had accepted it.

At thirty years old, he was expected to be married, or have a girlfriend or children by now. He had none of those things. His brother on the other hand was well on his way to getting those. He was engaged to a girl he’d met at Stanford, was still in his twenties, and was living the dream. He had just graduated last year with a degree in criminal law and was waiting for his girlfriend to graduate before they tied the knot.

Dean however was still stuck in the same job he’d been doing for the past few years, fixing cars and working in a garage. He had originally gone with Sam to California and had even gone to college, but in his sophomore year he had gone back home after his father had died in a car crash. Then his grades had plummeted, and he had failed all his classes. And to make sure at least Sam could stay in college, he had to get a full time job. So after going back home, he’d gotten his dad’s old job at the garage and began working with his uncle. It wasn’t a horrible job, he actually quite enjoyed it. But it would never get him to where he wanted to be. And where he wanted to be certainly wasn’t here.

After Sam had graduated from Stanford with a pre-law degree, Dean had offered to move back to help him with anything he might need, because his full ride ended after he finished his pre-law. But Sam had insisted that he’d be fine, so Dean had stayed in Lawrence. And that’s where he stayed for the past five years, alone and struggling with money. And it didn’t look like that was about to change.

“Dean, you didn’t have to come all the way out here for Thanksgiving,” Sam said again, for what seemed to be the thousandth time now.

“Course I did,” Dean shot back, taking a swig of his beer. “I couldn’t leave you alone with those preppy shitheads, could I?”

They were sitting down at the bar at some local pub. It was late into the night, but neither brother was feeling tired, and it had been awhile since they had gotten to spend time together, just the two of them. So they were more than happy to just enjoy themselves in the small pub.

“They’re not that bad,” Sam chuckled in defense. “Only the people that come from rich families are preppy,” he explained. “And they all mostly drop out sophomore year. And ALL freshmen are shitheads.”

“Yeah, and you still have to hang out with them,” Dean countered. He didn’t see it, but he was sure he felt Sam roll his eyes next to him.

“I’m a TA, not a prison guard. So I wouldn’t call you forcing me to stay at home yesterday just to watch a football game and eat pie with you to be ‘rescuing me’,” Sam explained, quoting Dean from yesterday morning when he had forced him to stay home.

“Sure beats dealing with freshmen though,” Dean offered, sending a knowing smirk his brothers’ way. Sam in response merely responded with bitch face #35. Classic Sammy.

“Fine,” he finally sighed, turning back to his own drink. “But it would have been nicer if you’d brought someone with you this time, ya know?”

Dean froze mid-drink at his brothers’ comment.

“I mean, it’s great having you out here, it is,” Sam rushed, seeing how his words had stung his brother. “It’s just that, Jess is graduating this year, I’m this close to getting my first job, I’m about to marry the girl I love, and I just,” he struggled to find the right words. Which was a feat considering how articulate he usually was. “I just don’t want you putting your life on hold for me anymore.”

His monologue was finished with a signature puppy dog stare that Dean had grown immune to over the years. Well, that’s what he let Sam believe anyway. “So what are you saying?” Dean asked, his tone flat. Sam worried his lip for a second before answering.

“It’s just, you’ve been paying more than your share for me to be here,” he sighed. “You’ve paid most of my rent, part of my tuition, actually, most of it,” he added in afterthought. “You’re offering to pay for mine and Jess’ wedding, and,” he took a deep breath, looking his brother in the eye. “You can’t keep putting your life on hold for me, Dean. I know you work your ass off at the garage, and when you’re not working there you’re helping Ellen and Jo out at the Roadhouse. You never take time for yourself. So I guess what I’m saying is, I just want you to be happy.” He finished with a shrug, eyes staying fixed on Dean.

“And you think that just because I don’t bring a girl around to thanksgiving means I don’t have a life?” Dean retorted, his words sounding far harsher than he meant for them to be.

“I’m not saying that,” Sam insisted. “I just haven’t seen you really happy in awhile. That’s all.”

Dean, unable to say anything, just turned back to his beer, which had suddenly lost its flavor, and sighed. It was true he had basically put his life on hold for Sam, but wasn’t that his job? To take care of the little snot nosed brat? Well, little didn’t really apply any more it seemed.

“I know what you mean,” Dean said, eyes downcast, but not betraying his thoughts. “And I’m fine, Sam. Really.”

Sam frowned in disbelief, but didn’t push the subject any further. “Alright,” he said, giving in. His brother didn’t want to talk about it, he knew better than to pry. “But seriously, lay off the beer. It’s starting to show,” he jabbed, eyeing Dean’s waist and lightening the mood. The older brother just cocked an eyebrow up in challenge.

“Are saying I’m fat?” He asked, a sly smile working its way onto his expression.

“Um, I mean, you could hit the gym more,” he offered in defense.

“Well Sammy,” Dean smiled, leaning back in his stool and turning to face him. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Chicks dig soft tummies.”

“Sure, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Novak.”

Castiel stood up, straightening out his tie as best he could, and walked towards the receptionist who’d called his name. He was at the local precinct yet again, for the third time that month, and he wasn’t too happy about it. He had gotten a call halfway through a meeting with a client and had left work as soon as he was able, fighting his way through late Black Friday shopping crowds to get there. He was getting used to calls like this, but that didn’t mean he liked them. They were getting to be a hassle to his schedule and health, giving him a migraine after every one. But this one had to be the worst so far.

“You can see her now,” the receptionist said, pointing towards a hallway leading back into the police station.

“Thank you,” he sighed, wearily making his way into the back. He walked past officers and a few people in cuffs or in questioning. Ignored them, he focused only on the door at the end of the hallway that read SHERIFF'S OFFICE. He walked up to it, and cautiously, grabbed the handle and opened it slowly, letting its occupants be aware of his presence. Inside were two people, a girl sitting with her back to the door, and the Sheriff sitting behind his desk with a grim expression. Castiel looked down at the girl, but her blue eyes were focused on the ground and a grimace was plastered on her face.

“Mr. Novak,” the officer greeted, standing up and offering Castiel a seat next to the teenager. “Thanks for coming.” 

“No problem sheriff,” he said, sitting down and trying to make eye contact with the blonde again, but to no avail. “I came as quickly as I could.”

“So,” the sheriff started, getting straight to the point. “You are aware of the reason behind this meeting, correct?” He asked, raising a cautious eyebrow.

Castiel grimaced internally, trying not to let the disdain and displeasure show on his face. “Yes,” he managed, a slight bite to his tone. “I am.”

“Then you are aware that Claire here tested positive for alcohol and substance abuse?” The sheriff clarified, glancing over to the aforementioned teenager next to Cas.

Cas shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying not to look at the girl next to him. But he could tell without doing so that she was hunched up and staring pointedly at the floor, either avoiding his glare or too guilty to face it.

“No, I was not aware of the substance abuse,” Castiel admitted through gritted teeth. He tried to keep his composure cool and collected, but his knuckles were already turning white as he scrunched up his trench coat splayed across his knees. “But the alcohol, I was aware of.”

“Well,” the sheriff continued. “Luckily, it was only cannabis, but still, it’s illegal for minors to consume it, so we still face the problem of that, as well as breaking and entering, vandalism, and underage drinking,” the sheriff listed. Castiel sighed inwardly. This was Claire’s worst offense yet. So far it had been petty things, shoplifting, ditching school (five times), running away (twice) and other minor infractions. The running away had been the first month, and then the felonies had steadily increased in scale, until they had come to a head, which was right now.

“That doesn’t sound like my Claire,” Cas said, looking pointedly at the teenager, who just ducked her head lower, suddenly very interested in her shoes. This was officially the first offence she had of underage drinking since she’d been in his care, and the scary part was, he wasn’t even that surprised. “Is there any way to get her out of this?” Castiel asked, anxious. He sincerely hoped that there was.

“Well, the prosecutors are willing to drop the charges, but only if she gives her full confession of the events and pays for all property damage and anything that might have been stolen.”

“Great,” Cas exclaimed. “I can pay for any damages done, and I’m sure Claire will give her confession.”

“Great,” said the sheriff, smiling. “Now, I have some paperwork that you have to sign, but other than that, there’s not much else to cover.” Castiel nodded, tense, as the man pulled out a small stack of papers on a clipboard and handed them over to him. He pulled out his own pen to sign it, reading over the legal forms before doing so. The office was quite while he did so; the only sound the annoying ticking of the clock and the scratching of his pen on the paper. He could practically feel the anxiety radiating off Claire as she worried her lip. Even though she had gotten herself into this, she did seem to have regretted it immensely, which was a silver lining, Cas thought.

“Alright,” he sighed heavily, signing the last form. “Done.” He handed them back to the sheriff, who took them and put it on his desk.

“Well it seems that we’ve covered everything we need to right now, so we can get that confession done tomorrow, I’m sure,” he said. “And in the meantime, you and your niece are free to go.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, standing up. He waited for the blonde to follow suit, waiting for her to leave the room before he did. As soon as he was out of the office, he saw Claire was already a fair ways ahead of him, moving quickly down the hallway to the exit doors. He jogged somewhat to catch up to her, eager to speak to her in private. As soon as he did, Cas grabbed onto the girls arm, stopping her, and pulled her off to the side of the hallway.

“Claire,” he scolded. “What were you really doing at that house?”

“You heard the sheriff,” she protested, trying to get out of his grip.

“Yes, I heard that you broke into some house, got drunk, and vandalized it. Care to tell me what that was about?”

She pulled away from him roughly, staggering back a bit. “I don’t have to tell you,” she bit out.

“Yes you do, I am your guardian, and I am in charge of you, just like a parent,” he reasoned, trying to keep his cool.

“Well, you’re not my parent, so I don’t have to answer to you!” She spat, before turning and walking away from him and down the hall again.

“No, but if your father were here, I know he’d say the exact same thing,” he said in a sharp tone, heading after her.

“How would you know?” She cried, stopping mid stride and turning to face him. He could see tears forming in her eyes, even though the rest of her expression was rage. “You never talked to him! You two weren’t even close! He was your brother and you didn’t even come to the funeral! How would know what he would want?”

Her voice had gone from rage filled to distraught, and tears had leaked from her eyes, sending streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. Castiel wanted to argue, to say that he and Jimmy had been close. But that was years ago. He hadn’t spoken with him in over eight years. So why would he have any reason to think he would know what Jimmy would say in this situation?

They stood there in silence again, the sounds of the precinct buzzing around them. He could hear phones ringing, people talking, someone crying, and doors opening and closing. But they both remained silent.

“Look,” Cas tried again. “I know I wasn’t that close with your father before he- before he died.” He choked the last part out. “But he was still my brother, and you’re still my niece. And I’m sorry I was never in your life when you were growing up. And I’m sorry that Jimmy and Amelia are dead. But we’re all that we have now. So can we please just make the best of it?” He hoped he didn’t sound desperate, but it was hard to keep the emotion out of his voice. Even though he hadn’t talked to Jimmy years before his death, that didn’t mean he didn’t care for him, or for his family. If it were up to him he would have contacted them years ago, but he never had. And now he never could. But he still had Claire, and she was virtually the only family he had left, and he just wanted her to understand that. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re family. And I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Claire bit her lip, avoiding his eyes again. She looked down at her shoes, lip trembling slightly, before she took off down the hall, heading for the door and out to the parking lot. Cas sighed as he looked after her. He knew she was headed towards his car, so he wasn’t worried about her running off. They had been living together for seven months, and she had been without her parents for nine. Cas still couldn’t believe they were gone. He hadn’t spoken to his twin, Jimmy, for years before, still getting over some stupid fight they’d had. And now both he and his wife Amelia were gone, leaving Cas with their teenage daughter, who he knew nothing about. And it didn’t help of course that he looked just like her dad. That must have been an even worse torture for her.

He started walking towards the parking lot, throwing on his trench coat before heading out into the chilly November air. His breath plumed in front of him in the light of the street lamps, turning it a silvery color. He looked around and spotted Claire waiting impatiently by his car a few yards away, rubbing her arms to try to keep warm. He felt something pang in his chest at the sight. He wanted to be mad at her for what she did, but he couldn’t. Instead, he just felt pity. It wasn’t her choice to be thrust into his care, or to live two thousand miles away from her home. And the death of your parents, that would really screw any kid up. So honestly, Cas could hardly blame her. He just wished there was something he could do to help her.

Noticing that he had been standing there for a while, and Claire was still shivering next to his car, he pulled out his keys and clicked the UNLOCK button so she could at least get in the car to wait for him. He watched as she eagerly obliged.

The ride home was an awkward one to say the least, with the two just sitting in silence as they tried to navigate the night traffic of San Francisco. The only thing to fill the frustrating silence was the radio, which seemed to only be able to play the same ten mediocre pop songs in a loop. After forty five minutes of stop and go traffic, Cas finally pulled his car into the parking garage beneath the building they lived in. It was an upscale joint, but not an overly fancy one. Sure it had penthouses, but Cas, even with his great job, couldn’t dream to afford that. Not that their apartment wasn’t big, it just wasn’t, well, BIG.

Claire was out of the car as soon as they were parked, opening the door before Cas had even applied the E-break. Cas could only watch with trepidation as his niece grabbed her bag from the car and slammed the door shut behind her, going to wait by the elevator doors for him. He wanted to say something, perhaps something comforting, or maybe even reassuring, but her anger and his uselessness with teenagers made that quite impossible. Instead, he shut off the car and went to join her at the elevator doors, swiping his access card and waiting for the doors to open.

Their silence continued until the elevator was just passing the fourteenth floor.

“So tomorrow I will have to take you to the station so they can get your statement,” he said slowly, testing the waters. He didn’t want a Claire sized bomb to go off on him again as it had at the precinct.

“Fine” Claire bit out, eyes staring pointedly ahead at the silver doors and not him.

“And the payment for the damages is coming out of your allowance,” he added.

“Whatever,” she sneered, tone deadpanned and expression stony. Cas felt himself frown. God, why couldn’t she see the seriousness in the situation?

“Is this a joke to you?” He suddenly snapped, causing her to blink in surprise, and actually look him in the eye for the first time in awhile.

“What?” she asked, mildly surprised and off guard.

Cas’ frown deepened in  frustrated. “Claire, this is your worst offense yet. Why can’t you take this seriously?”

“Maybe because I’m just a stupid teenager filled with hormonal angst,” she shot back, eyes narrowed. So they were doing this? Fine by him.

He narrowed his eyes as well, his gaze hardening and features going cold. Then, in his husky voice, he said, “Claire, if this happens again, I WON’T be able to bail you out. You WILL be sent to court. You’re lucky you weren’t today.”

Claire ground her teeth in anger at his words, but couldn’t exactly argue.

“And if you keep doing this,” he added, ready to throw out the wild card. “CPS will be on my ass and you’ll be thrown into the system, and I won’t be able to help you again.”

That seemed to shut her up. Her mood immediately changed from unseated anger to withdrawn and grim. Her face melted and her eyes sank back down to the floor. From what she’d told him, he knew she didn’t like the system, and that most people were more interested in the money that came with her rather than the girl herself. Not many people wanted to take in an angsty teen after all. She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, hands clenched and unclenching as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“I just want to help, Claire,” Cas finally sighed, his voice quiet and defeated. “Tell me how to help you.”

She didn’t. And their argument was ended when the elevator pinged and the chrome doors slid open for them to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been sitting in my drafts since forever. I have no idea if I'm gonna continue it or not but ye, here ya go. I do have a plot outlined but like. who knows. If you want me to continue or continue it urself, just let me know.


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